


Sunflowers

by Ms_Tassimo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 23:57:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8422717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ms_Tassimo/pseuds/Ms_Tassimo
Summary: Dean takes his boy some sunflowers





	

Dean knows that Castiel loves sunflowers. Hence the reason he’s picked up fresh ones from the market and is clutching them tightly in their brown paper wrappings and walking up the street on the hot summer day.

 

The sunflowers are bright and yellow and they remind Dean of the time that he came in from a hard day at work to find Castiel in the kitchen, singing along to the radio as he made dinner, a vase of fresh sunflowers on the table. Yellow had always been his favourite colour, which was why almost every room in the damn house was painted that way. And Dean had grumbled and moaned about it but he secretly has come to love the way Castiel has spent his time picking out different shades and patterns to decorate their home.

_Their_ home.

 

It’s modest; a two up, two down kinda place with a garden out back where – surprise, surprise – Castiel grows the tallest sunflowers Dean has ever seen. They brush the windows on the top floor, yellow petals peeping through the glass.

 

One could kinda say that yellow had grown to be Dean’s favourite colour, purely because it’s a reminder of Castiel. And Dean loves everything that reminds him of Castiel.

 

Dean turns down a sideroad, taking a shortcut that’ll get him to Castiel a bit faster. He speeds up, because hell, if he’s late, he’ll never forgive himself. The last time he was late for something- well, he was still trying to make that one up to himself. He grips the stems of the sunflowers a little tighter, causing the flowers to shake slightly.

 

Seeing Cas has been the only thing Dean’s been thinking of all day. Although, it’s like that most days, when the sound of Cas’ laugh is the only thing Dean can hear, or the image of his smile ingrained permanently behind Dean’s eyes. He loves it. He loves the fact that this man has completely taken over his body and mind.

 

And he hates it at the same time.

 

By the time Dean arrives, he’s panting slightly. His feet make small thuds against the neatly-cut grass, and he looks around, although he knows exactly where Cas is. He swallows the same lump in his throat he gets every time he reaches the graveyard.

 

Dean kneels beside the headstone, a sad smile pulling at his lips. He rests the sunflowers down carefully, adding them to the bunches that he’s put there every week for the past eight months. Castiel’s grave is a beautiful amalgamation of yellow, just how it should be. Dean sits with his legs folded beneath him, tracing the letters of Castiel’s name.

 

He’d been late picking Castiel up to take him to a doctor’s appointment. Too wrapped up in work to remember that he’d promised to go there to hold his hand. So Castiel had taken the car, and driven. Dean was never going to forget the way everything had frozen when he’d gotten the call telling him that Castiel had been wiped out by a truck that hadn’t stopped at the intersection. He can still remember, even months later, the time on the clock in front of him, the way that the doctor had told him to hurry.

 

Dean runs his hand over the smooth edge of the gravestone, stroking the dark letters written across the front. There are already numerous bouquets of flowers sitting in front of Castiel’s grave, varying from new, crisp blooms, to brown, slushy-looking ghosts. He sits cross-legged in front of the flowers, placing his own on the top of them all. His fingers thread through the grass, pulling up the blades as he sits in silence, contemplating.

 

“So Sam got a new job,” he says eventually, biting his lip. “He moves across state next week. I’m happy for him, I am, I just…it feels like everyone’s moving on, Cas. I feel like I’m stuck here and everything’s passing me by.

 

“I miss you, Cas.”


End file.
